Silence
by emif
Summary: Thief King visits the House of Beer on a quiet night.


1**Disclaimer: **I don't own Yugioh. That privilege belongs to Kazuki Takahashi, Jump Studio, Shonen Jump, Toei Animation, TV Tokyo, 4Kids, Funimations and of course, all of the Koreans who animate it for as much pay as the average child laborer.

**A/N: **My second one-shot. This time with good old TK.

Also I have no idea if Egyptians had pints but they do now. Also, it's the only identifiable term that makes everyone think of beer.

**Silence**

The House of Beer was never silent. It was always bustling, always so alive no matter the time. Men seemed to come and go at every hour, day or night. The keeper was constantly running between his customers, trying to break up fights, convince the others that the fights were not dangerous and serve everyone else who seemed to range from raging to morbidly lethargic. Thief King loved it there. However some nights, the bar was not so lively.

The night itself was quiet. No fights or thieves prowlled even in the House of Beer. Only two or three quiet patrons sat in the tavern. Thief King sat alone, as he always did, at a small table.The other patrons seemed to ignore him. No one paid much mind to anyone else unless you either came with them or were looking for someone to brawl with. No one brawled with Thief King or ever came with him."You want another pint, then?" The house master asked. He was walking around slowly asking if any of his few customers wanted more to eat or drink.

Thief King looked up at him but only lifted his head slightly. His eyes were glazed and he wobbled slightly in his chair. "Yeahmmm..."He nodded and the answer was violently slurred.He was undeniably drunk.

The house master groaned."You said you'd have it under control."The thief didn't seem to listen and wobbled as he sat trying to getout something to pay the house master.The house master motioned to the thief. "You always pay, put it away. Better thanmost. Just try not to make me kick you out." With that the house master brought him another pint of bread beer and left to see to his other customers.

The thief bobbed a little looking at his pint. He was thinking about what the house master had said. He did drink often. Actually that was understated, he drank everyday. He was kicked out, quite literally, often. He wasn't dependant on the drink though. Not at all. He chose to drink every night or more the people of the house chose for him. As long as it was loud, bustling and full of life, he didn't need to drink. It was nights like this that always threw him.

Silence terrified him. When things were bustling and rowdy, he could hardly think. He liked that feeling. The feeling of being too busy, too concentrated or too loud to think. It wasn't that he had nothing to think about, quite the opposite. It was the context that scared him. Silence was the only sound he heard after that night.

The thief shook his head. He had to put it out of his mind, thinking of that night. He took large drink and looked around. The house was growing increasingly more empty. The thief felt his heart beating heavy in his chest and could hear his thoughts pounding. He hated this feeling. His heart grew faster and echoed in his head. His blood rushed causing his joints to ache. The blood felt like fire moving inside his veins. He shuddering and drank more. He need to avoid a memory. He had to evade it at all causes. He raised his hand and yelled to the house master. "Another!"

The house master looked up surprised and prepared another pint. He looked over in the bowlegged way that he did and placed it in front of the Thief King. "You trying to get drunk again?" He said with a half toothless smile.

Thief King laughed, half in a snort. The house master had always been a good man to him. He tried to avoid kicking him out and didn't let the thief's self appointed title frighten him. To him, a patron was a patron and the rest was there own business. "Ku... I'll have to see."

The house master turned and walked off with a hoarse but benign laugh. "Don't get into trouble, thief."

The thief took another drink. He was calmer now and the presence of a memory was gone. He had avoided it. Memories were one of the many things that he had to worry about. They came to him more often when he was alone than other times. They were filled with death and pain and blood from that night.

That is why he hated the silence. Silence was the only sound that he heard the morning after their deaths. That and the sound of his own beating heart.

After the massacre back when he was a child, he spent three days doing nothing but drowning in the memories that he fears so much. When he was drowning in these memories, he couldn't eat or drink without vomiting and he screamed things that he couldn't even control or understand. He wasn't in control when the memories appeared to him. If he were to remember, he would die. He would starve to death or be killed for his raving. So he decided to steal at night when it was silent and to sleep when it was loud, bustling and light.

Thief King wobbled as he sat in the chair. He was drunk again, finally. It was getting harder and harder as he grew. He remembered it only took one pint when he was seven years old. It took him almost ten pints tonight. It was well worth the gold he spent on it though. The memories seemed to drown in the drink and could never reach him. The relief was bliss.

The house master turned from his post at the bar toward the thief. He was wobbling over his small tabled until he finally collapsed. The house master sighed, walked over and pulled the unconscious man onto his shoulders. He moved him to a bench in the corner and left him to sleep. "I wish you would handle your drinking, my friend."

Thief King did not hear him. He was fast asleep from intoxication. Nightmares only plague those who sleep without the drink. The thief was free from the memories for the next day in a dreamless sleep.


End file.
